


There's A Serpent Lying Deep Down In These Still Waters

by shaeheda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, F/M, Mount Weather, Slow Burn, and a bellarke shipper, college enemies to lovers, i would die for mat anderson, mat is the sweetest of beans, not really an apocalypse, oblivious idiots alert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:16:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaeheda/pseuds/shaeheda
Summary: Clarke used to think she had the world figured out. She had great friends, a job she loved, and the world seemed to make sense. But then Cage Wallace and the fucking zombie apocalypse happened.Bellamy Blake would do anything for his family, including traveling across the country fighting zombies with his sister to find them.When Clarke and Bellamy's worlds collide they'll have to put their differences aside and work together. Will something they could have never predicted spark between them? Or will it all go up in flames?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26
Collections: Bellarke Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest... this fic started out as a joke. I said to ryn "what if I wrote a coffee shop au with zombies set in mount weather?" and we laughed and then I thought about it for all of 5 minutes before I said "fuck it" and here we are. And while we're being honest I had an outline for this story and didn't follow a single original plot point, it quite literally had a mind of its own. This is unlike anything I've written before but it was the most fun I've ever had so the moral of the story is get out of your comfort zone. I've never really been proud of my writing or even liked it, until now. I hope you love it as much as I do! As always you can find me on twitter @bihaileyupton or on tumblr @shaeheda
> 
> A HUGE THANK YOU to all the wonderful people in the discord for being so supportive, this fic probably wouldn't exist without their unwavering encouragement. Thank you to chloe for putting this together, you are amazing!
> 
> Like all my fics there is a playlist to accompany it and help set the mood, you can listen to it [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2VYJAO3jWuEldhGUrL1yNT?si=vZFrwH8RREey01Lw3MZItQ) and some wonderful art which can be found [here](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/post/625646922497245184/for-shaehedas-wonderful-fic-for-bellarkebigbang)

When Clarke pictured the end of the world, she never expected it would be like this. She didn’t picture herself working for the man who helped end it, yet here she is; in a lab with a syringe of brain tissue-regrowing hydrogel in her hand and an unconscious human host lying in front of her. And she sure as hell didn’t plan on formulating a hydrogel that could regrow brain tissue so she could harvest from the same host again and again. All at the request of Cage Wallace.

She used to think she had the world figured out. She had great friends, a job she loved, and the world seemed to make sense. But then Cage Wallace and the fucking zombie apocalypse happened.

Okay, it wasn’t _exactly_ an apocalypse, but it was pretty damn close. Close enough to turn her entire world upside down. She doesn’t recognize herself anymore. She can’t even see the difference between good and evil in her own reflection. 

It isn’t like the movies, not like anything she thought it would be when she first heard the words zombie outbreak. It’s all quite normal really. They walk and talk like anyone else. They are slightly paler in comparison, but that can easily be attributed to a Vitamin D deficiency. There isn't a definitive way to separate the zombies from the humans—short of cutting them open and watching their black blood ooze out.

_‘Things always get easier over time,’_ her dad used to say, but Clarke doubts this is what her dad had in mind when he parted that piece of wisdom upon her. It’s been five years since the outbreak, and things haven’t gotten easier at all. In the first year, Clarke had worked tirelessly to find a cure. She spent countless hours in the lab reworking equations and many long and unpleasant nights at galas trying to network with enough rich people to secure funding to continue her research. Ironically enough, that was how she met Cage Wallace. He offered her a big fancy lab with state of the art equipment and unlimited funding to find a cure. It was the perfect opportunity, and Clarke jumped at the chance. She had no idea he had no intention of releasing the cure once she found it.

It took two years, but eventually, she did it. She waltzed into Wallace’s office, bursting with excitement at finding the cure. But when she told him, something in Wallace’s smile reeked of wickedness. Uneasiness sat low in Clarke’s belly, pulling her beneath the surface, her breath held captive in her lungs burning with every second that ticked by.

She would later figure out that the only reason Cage had been so hellbent on helping her find the cure was so that no one else would have it. It was by accident, or luck as she likes to think. Cage had been yelling at someone on the phone when she arrived at his office. From outside his door, she could hear him all too clearly and it was then that she figured out he had every scientist and doctor within city limits in his pocket and those he didn’t he would turn into zombies. She didn’t know much about the science behind it, just that a syringe filled with red liquid would be injected into the jugular of whoever he wanted to turn. It was unclear if he was the one that created the virus or if it was something he stumbled upon but either way it left a certain feeling of hopelessness deep in Clarke’s chest. That feeling of hopelessness only got worse when Clarke was informed that Cage was holding Madi hostage to keep her from releasing the cure. She couldn’t bear to lose the only person she had left so she bit her tongue and has been abiding by Cage’s rules ever since.

The only way she’s gotten through her time under his control is by living in her fantasies. They get her through the rough days, which is every day. Like whenever she sees Cage, she imagines his gory death. Her particular favorite is the one in which she watches gleefully as a jaguar uses its elongated canines to bite through the temporal bone all while he is fully cognizant.

Serving coffee isn’t exactly unfamiliar territory for her—she had a service job all throughout college—but she could do better than handing out lattes to the pretentious assholes that filter in and out of Mount Weather Cafe. She has a Ph.D., for God’s sake!

To anyone walking by, Mount Weather is just your average coffee shop. Cage is nothing if not detail-oriented. They serve coffee just like any other cafe, and the customers are none the wiser to what lies in the basement; the stuff nightmares are made of. At least Clarke’s nightmares. A museum of all her wrongdoings over the past five years. People kept in cells and rotated out to have sections of their brain removed to feed the zombies. 

The pile-up of bodies started to become a problem. Cage told her that she had to find a solution, threatened to hurt her daughter if she refused. He didn’t give her specifics and she didn’t ask for any, afraid of the answer she might receive. It was a lot of trial and error and for a while, she didn’t think it was possible. The constant failed attempts wore her down. She was nearly ready to give up, but then she thought about her daughter. She could practically hear her daughter’s voice cheering her on. With dark circles under her eyes and exhaustion in her bones, she came up with a solution to reduce the casualties. Her solution was to create a hydrogel, Cage called it Plexus, which helped regrow neurons and blood vessels so after every removal of brain tissue all she has to do is inject the hydrogel into the cavity and let the tissue regenerate. That made it all real. Up until that point she had been a hostage, forced to kill innocent people, and feed the undead. That all changed when she created the hydrogel; now she’s an active participant. She is just as responsible as Cage, her hands bloodied by the innocent people she helps keep captive in the lab while she cuts out pieces of their brain. No matter how hard she scrubs, that blood will never wash away. 

Twelve people. The same twelve faces, begging her for hours on end to _‘please let me go’_ day in and appearing behind her eyelids day out. The hydrogel she created makes them prisoners. There is no scenario in which Cage will allow them to leave. Each day Clarke removes the cerebellum from one of the twelve people held captive in the lab before injecting them with Plexus. An hour later a guard escorts them back to their cell and Clarke is left alone to clean up. Though it’s not the mess she longs to clean. She wants to cure the zombies, repair what Cage broke. 

As much as she hates him and hates to admit it, Cage Wallace is a smart man. A misogynistic ass, but smart. His misogyny is just one weakness she’s discovered since being forced to work for him. He underestimates Clarke because she’s a woman. That gives her the advantage to eavesdrop on his conversations and pick up useful bits of information. She slowly discovered the whole zombie outbreak was meticulously orchestrated, all of the right authoritative figures blackmailed and enough fear instilled into those that are infected to keep them from going to the authorities. 

But Clarke is smart too. She’s going to take him down, to put a stop to all this and release the cure. She just needs to bide her time and wait for the right moment to strike.

* * *

Bellamy pressed his gun to the zombie’s temple. “Tell us who’s in charge and we might let you go.”

War has a funny way of changing people. Before the outbreak, Bellamy had never even held a gun, let alone shot one. Now, five years later, he has a kill count higher than he’d like to admit. He’d be lying if he said those faces didn’t chase him into his dreams each night, pull him apart limb from limb to the point that he would wake up with muscles sore and shoulders slumped just a little bit more than the previous day. 

“I don’t know anything, I swear!” the man exclaims. 

“I don’t have time for games,” Bellamy growls. “We both know you’re lying so just tell me what you know.”

A click from the safety on his gun cuts through the deafening silence. His hand trembles slightly, just enough for him to feel and for it to remind him of just how fucked things truly are these days. Not enough for Octavia to notice from her place beside him. She’s probably gripping her sword tightly and too distracted by resisting the urge to kill the zombie that sits before them.

This isn’t the life he wanted for Octavia. When she was a kid, he did everything he could to protect her from the evils in the world. But now they are in the thick of it all, paddling over eerily still waters waiting for something to bubble up to the surface. From the time she turned eighteen she’d insisted on doing things herself, never accepting any help from Bellamy. That is until her husband Lincoln and his best friend Miller were taken and she showed up at Bellamy’s doorstep. Following her was his only option. 

_‘Oxymoron,’_ he thought bitterly. 

As he holds the gun to the man’s head, images of Lincoln and Miller flash in his mind to remind him why he has to do this. The safety of his family is at stake.

The zombie on the other side of his gun lets out a broken cry, only his gun didn’t go off. Looking at Octavia tells him all he needs to know. Thick, black goo drips from her sword and he’s seen it enough times to know it’s zombie blood—if you could even call it blood. They don’t call them undead for anything. He’s still fully coherent, even with the giant slash across his chest.

“Jesus, Octavia.” When all of this started they agreed he would be the one to handle the interrogations, but she doesn’t listen. He just wants to keep her hands as clean as possible, never mind his sanity. 

Luckily the wound she inflicts is superficial and it startles him enough that the information just came pouring out. Bellamy ignores the smirk his sister is wearing and focuses on what the zombie hostage is saying. 

They get enough information that they can move on, this time to Mount Weather, and Octavia raises her sword to kill the zombie. Bellamy places a gentle hand over hers to lower her sword and raises the gun in his other hand. He aims with practiced precision at the zombie’s frontal lobe—the only way to kill a zombie—and pulls the trigger.

Mount Weather is in the next state over and a six-hour road trip. The location the zombie gave is a _coffee shop_. Bellamy isn’t sure what answers could possibly be found at a coffee shop, but he’s got enough time to think it over and form a plan on the road.

Usually, they set out immediately, But he convinces Octavia to wait until morning. They’ll need all the rest they can get. 

* * *

Clarke wakes up in the early hours of the morning, stiff from a restless sleep, to find Cage has left for a meeting with the Mayor. He’ll be gone for three days.

Cage rarely takes trips, and when he does he’s rarely gone longer than a day. Clarke will need to gather as much information as she can over the next three days. It won’t be easy, that much she knows. Cage is paranoid and therefore careful; he’s assigned her an extra guard in his absence. But she has to try for Madi.

She starts her day like any other by opening up the coffee shop. It’s mundane enough to let her believe things are normal, at least for a little while. Something about turning on the espresso machine and wiping down the counter gives her a sense of normalcy. She can pretend Madi is in school, probably in English class or maybe Math. Without Cage lurking around, it’s easy to forget about zombies and her nightmares over the things she’s done to keep her and Madi safe. Of course, that fantasy comes crashing down the second a zombie walks in and orders the ‘Brain Freeze,’ which is essentially a code word for _‘I’m a zombie and I need brains.’_ A little piece of her dies each time and she’s not sure how much more of herself she can give before there’s nothing left.

The ‘Brain Freeze’ is a smoothie with brains blended into it, Cage’s attempt at being clever. It’s a secret menu item that only zombies know about through word of mouth. 

He pays for his drink without tipping—not like Cage would let her keep it anyways—and leaves. It’s somehow easier to breathe once he leaves. Being around zombies always puts Clarke on edge, a constant reminder of the part she plays in all of this. 

She needs to keep busy, or else that train of thought will eat her alive. She heads to the back storage room to grab some supplies, and she’s not surprised when a guard follows her. She’s rarely left alone. Luckily for her, it’s Anderson, the chatty Kathy of the two guards assigned to her.

When she struggles to reach a stack of cups on the top shelf, Anderson reaches the top shelf with ease and hands her the stack of cups. 

“Thanks,” she says with a smile. “So, Cage went to go meet with the Mayor? I wonder what that’s about.”

“Something about funding I think.”

“Funding?” she asks.

“I’m pretty sure he’s securing funds for more supplies to be able to make more of the pathogen, because why spend your own money creating zombies when you can convince the Mayor to do it for you right?” he replies bitterly.

It’s no secret to her that Cage surrounds himself with zombies like it’s some weird kink he has. _‘I wouldn’t put it past him to have a zombie kink,’_ she thinks because yeah, Cage is a creep. All of his guards are people he’s turned. Some are his personal guards and others scout the streets because he wants only the strongest. Cage is notified about anyone who gets turned and evaluates them based on how strong they are. If they meet his standards he kidnaps them and places them somewhere on his guard, threatening their loved ones to keep them in line. _‘At least he’s consistent.’_

“He’s planning to make more zombies?” she asks tentatively.

Anderson doesn’t say anything, just nods solemnly.

A pit forms in her stomach and nausea washes over her because she knows Cage won’t be the one to turn people into zombies, it’ll be her.

* * *

Bellamy and Octavia wake up before the sun and pack the car. Their trip mostly consists of highways and only the occasional back road. Octavia is buzzing with anticipation on the passenger side and honestly, he can’t blame her. For the first time in a long time, it feels like they might be on the right track. As his hand tightens around the wheel, he thanks whatever gods exist that the world hasn’t completely gone to shit. He knows an apocalypse isn’t far off, it’s in the way the air has shifted in the last few months, but they are still able to use their phones and drive their car, at least for now. 

The closer they get to Polis, the more agitated he becomes. Octavia too. It could be the six-hour drive, but Bellamy can’t shake the feeling that it’s more than that.

He’s not sure exactly what he expected to find in the coffee shop, but it sure as hell wasn’t Clarke Griffin behind the counter. She looks as beautiful as he remembers. Not much has changed about her it seems. Her hair is shorter and she’s aged about 5 years since the last time he saw her, but even from across the room he can see the same fire behind her eyes he used to admire. 

“Is that Clarke Griffin? From college?” his sister asks from beside him.

“Looks like it.”

He hasn’t taken his eyes off her since the moment he walked in, so he sees the recognition coat her face when her eyes lock on him as he walks toward her. The closer he gets, the more he notices a slump in her shoulders he’s all too familiar with; he sees it in himself every time he looks in a mirror.

By the time they reach the counter, all evidence of recognition has been erased and replaced by a polite smile and straightened shoulders.

“Welcome to Mount Weather, what can I get for you?” she asks in that polite manner you hear only from people who work in customer service.

Following a lead and Clarke Griffin being on the other side of it is shocking, to say the least. He can’t really find the words so for the first time in a while he’s thankful for Octavia. 

“Hey, Clarke, it’s me, Octavia, we used to go to college together. I’m sure you remember my brother Bellamy.”

“Uh, yeah, we had that classical civilization course together,” Clarke says. She spares a quick glance over her shoulder and Bellamy follows her line of sight to find two very muscular men standing a few feet behind her. There’s an awkward shift in her stance as she flits her gaze back to him.

“My, how Arkadia’s princess has fallen,” he teases. Back in college, she was a colossal pain in his ass and him in hers but he never doubted that she was destined for something great like finding a cure for cancer. Color him surprised to see her standing behind a counter taking orders.

She sighs defeatedly and something in his chest tightens. This was not the Clarke Griffin he once knew—or thought he knew. Considering they only ever shared one class and were never really friends, he supposes he never really knew her at all.

“What can I get you guys?” Her voice is polite, impersonal.

Leave it to Octavia to jump right in. “We were actually hoping you could help us with something, we’re looking for someone who might know something about zombies.”

Clarke’s face pales slightly. “I can’t help you with that,” she says. 

Based on her reaction he can guess she knows more than she’s letting on, why she refuses to help them is the real mystery. Maybe she’s a zombie herself. She’s always been fair-skinned so it’s hard to tell if her paleness can be attributed to being a zombie or just lack of Vitamin D. 

“You’re not as good of a liar as you think you are.” Octavia crosses her arms across her chest.

“Do you know something? _Please._ If you know something you have to help us.” He’s surprised when it comes out more like a plea. He never thought he’d be asking—no _begging_ —the girl that used to pick fights with him every day his senior year for help, but there’s a first time for everything.

Once more she glances over her shoulder before walking over to the espresso machine and gets to work. Octavia looks over at him with her brows furrowed in confusion. He shrugs his shoulders in response because he’s just as clueless as she is to what’s happening. They hadn’t ordered anything, but Clarke seemed to be making them drinks anyway.

He uses this time to get a better look at the two men Clarke was looking at earlier. If he had to guess, he’d probably say they were ex-military. He can see it in their stiff demeanor and the way their eyes scan the room for trouble. Each of them has a handgun clipped to the waistband of his pants. Bellamy turns his attention back to Clarke as she works. If he stares at the guards too long, they’ll probably get suspicious about his motives for being in the coffee shop and that’s the last thing he needs.

Her piercing blue eyes stun him and his heart skips a beat. She hands them two hot coffees and offers a polite smile before turning to clean the countertop. He follows Octavia as she stomps out of the coffee shop, understandably frustrated. He can hear her off somewhere in the distance ranting about what they would do now, but he’s too distracted by the coffee cup to hear anything she’s saying. Black markings are peeking out from the cup cozy, but he waits until they’re outside and out of sight of the guards to take a look.

_‘Meet me at the church on 8th and Spruce @ 9:30.’_ it says.

* * *

It’s a good thing Clarke has six hours before she needs to meet the Blake siblings because it takes her almost that long to figure out how she will slip past her guards and get to the church. From the time the cafe closes she only has 2 hours to execute her plan and get over to the church, all without getting caught. That’s the most important part. 

Anderson escorts her to the lab, and she really hates that it has to be him. He’s always kind to her, and here she is about to take advantage of that. But if she doesn’t, the Blake siblings will surely come back and stir up more trouble, it’s kind of their thing. All throughout college, every story she heard had involved them in one way or another. Whether it was a fight at a party or a walkout during one of Professor Jaha’s lectures for his blatant classist view of the world and constant display of favoritism. She knows Anderson wouldn’t spare her if their roles were reversed, so really he’s just a pawn and she’s just playing the game. 

Her hands tremble as she makes her way over to her work station. Even if she hadn’t been looking for the sedative she would have found it just as quickly as she did. There it was: front and center among all the other syringes almost as if it knew somehow. Was this some sign from the universe that she was doing the right thing? She could only hope. 

With the time it takes to walk through the facility and to the church while avoiding all of Cage’s guards, she would have to drug him at some point within the hour. An hour to work up the courage to betray someone that has shown her kindness amid all the shit going on around her, someone that has given her regular updates of Madi’s wellbeing even when he isn’t supposed to. Her stomach twists at the thought. 

Of course, Anderson has to be extra talkative today, he can’t just make this easy. “You know Janine is thinking about putting Chris into a gifted program?”

When Clarke didn’t respond he just continued. “He’s so smart but I kind of just want him to be a normal kid you know? If we put him in this gifted program then for the rest of his life he’ll be different than everyone else his age, he’ll always feel like he’s on the outside and that’s not something I want for him. I want him to enjoy being a kid while he still can. What would you do?” 

All Clarke can think about is how guilty she feels over having to sedate him and how all this could go wrong and ruin her already fragile place in Cage’s system.

“Clarke?”

“What?”

“I asked, what would you do? If it were Madi, what would you do?”

“Oh, sorry, uh,” she stumbles as she takes a quick glance in his direction. “I don’t know, I think I’d let her decide. Her whole life has kind of been people making decisions for her, I’d want her to feel like she has a say. I know that’s probably not what you were wanting to hear…” she trails off, unsure if she maybe crossed a line with him in some way. Sure he asked for her advice, but it’s not like they are friends—at least not conventional friends anyway— to stop giving her updates on Madi when he doesn’t have to. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It is his life, he probably should have some say in it. He’s just growing up so fast I have trouble being hands-off because I want him to stay little forever. I want him to always need me, I want to protect and help him.”

Her hand itches with the anticipation of sedating him. “You won’t ever lose that, it’ll just be different.” 

Anderson sighs and turns away for a split second and it’s now or never. Clarke grabs the syringe from the table and sticks it in his neck. He turns around, a flash of betrayal in his eyes as his body goes limp.

She doesn’t expect the apology that falls from her lips. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this for Madi.” She softens his fall and drags him to a closet. 

* * *

Bellamy and Octavia get to the church early. The possibility that they may get answers as to where their loved ones are has them both on edge. Octavia is buzzing with nervousness and far too distracted at how close she is to finding Lincoln to be thinking that Clarke Griffin may be a threat rather than an ally, but Bellamy knows better than to trust someone claiming to have information that would help them. 

“O, will you stop pacing! You’re going to wear a hole into the floor.”

Octavia just rolls her eyes as she continues to pace.

It’s hindering his ability to think clearly. All he can think about is a familiar blonde with calming blue eyes. He tries to think of a strategy and how she could have lured them into a trap, but he’s too distracted with thoughts of _her_ and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know Clarke Griffin very well—his knowledge of her only extends to the class they shared and what he read about her father’s death in the newspaper. He wants to know more, needs to know more. _Just so he can be prepared for whatever trouble she may bring_. Right.

“We need to be prepared for a possible ambush,” he starts.

Octavia huffs. “Oh look, your paranoia, right on time.” 

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” He turns his back to her and looks out the door for any sign of Clarke. He checks his watch for the time. She’s late.

They are standing at the entrance, near the front door. After everything they’ve done, it would feel too weird to walk into the church. To be honest, Bellamy was a little nervous the building would burst into flames the second he stepped foot inside. He thought maybe his sins would be too much and he and Octavia would go down in a fiery burst of reparations. When no flames appeared, a quick sigh of relief passed his lips after Octavia turned her back to him. 

Bellamy is not a patient man, at least not when the fate of two people’s lives hangs in the balance. He took one more anxious glance out the front window, almost trying to will Clarke with his mind to show up.

A voice sounds out from behind them. “Alright, we need to make this quick.”

Both siblings whip their heads around to find Clarke standing in the entryway of the chapel, an area they were actively avoiding. 

Bellamy scowls. “You’re late.”

“Sorry I- getting here took a little longer than expected. What do you want to know?”

Truth be told, he doesn’t think Clarke has any intention of telling them anything. She probably planned on giving them some vague information that would send them as far west as she could. Of course Bellamy Blake—being the stubborn ass he is—won’t allow that to happen.

“We need to know who’s responsible for the zombies,” Bellamy states matter of fact. 

“What makes you think I know anything?” Clarke crosses her arms, still as stubborn as she was back in college.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Does that really matter? Look, we know that you know something. So can we just skip past the part where you pretend like you don’t and just _tell_ us?”

He hopes that she appreciates that he is willing to get straight to the point. Maybe she’ll help them if he’s upfront about what they need. 

“Sorry, but I can’t help you.” She turns to go towards the back exit, but Bellamy’s not letting her go that easy.

He surges forward to grip her arm and stop her from walking away with the answers he so desperately needs. “Where do you think you’re going, princess? We’re not finished here.”

“We are. I told you I can’t help you, so if you’ll take your hand off of me I would appreciate it.” a threatening tone escapes her lips. It’s familiar to the tone she would use during one of their arguments back in college.

Bellamy opens his mouth an insult or demand, likely on the tip of his tongue, but instead, his sister beats him to it.

“We just want to get in touch with some family is all. My husband disappeared two years ago and Bellamy’s best friend is missing, we just want to make sure they’re okay and bring them home. I know we weren’t exactly close back in college, but we could really use your help. _Please,_ ” Octavia pleads. 

Octavia has those damn puppy dog eyes that always got her whatever she wanted growing up. Hell, it’s working on Clarke. He stares hard enough and he swears he can see her tough exterior melt at their request. Bellamy’s eyes catch Clarke’s and he can see her resolve melt away.

“Fine, I promise to help you,” she agrees. “But I have conditions.”

“Deal, whatever you want, it’s yours,” Octavia says. Bellamy’s face lights up with the same smug grin she probably remembers from the class they shared. The one that appeared when he knew he had won an argument or when he was flirting with a girl in the quad. He secretly hopes she hates that grin.

“First, you can’t tell anyone I’m helping you. I mean it, no one can know.”

“You got it,” Octavia nods. 

Bellamy narrows his eyes suspiciously. He understands the need for secrecy, he does—these are dangerous times and he’s never really sure who he can trust other than Octavia. Something about Clarke doesn’t sit right with him. It pulls at his gut begging to be acknowledged, but this is a delicate partnership and he’s not ready to blow it up quite yet, not until he gets what he came for.

“Another thing: you can’t come to the cafe anymore,” she says matter of fact. On the surface her demeanor is unwavering, but he can tell that beneath all that she’s trembling. He would be too. 

“No way.” Bellamy chuckles. “How do we know you aren’t just gonna abandon the promise you made to help us?”

“What my brother means to say is how will you get information to us?” Octavia casts a disapproving look in Bellamy’s direction as if she somehow has authority over him. It’s the other way around usually, but with his short temper, he supposes it’s for the best that she reigns him in. 

Clarke shrugs. “I’ll come to you.” She glances at her watch and panics. “Write down where you’re staying and I’ll come to you when I have information.”

The siblings eye her cautiously, but it’s Bellamy who speaks. “You seem nervous, what aren’t you telling us?”

“Do you want my help or not?” her words come out in a clipped tone, not knowing how to hide her frustration. 

Octavia hands her a piece of paper with a scribbled-on address, and Clarke mutters a quick thanks before bolting back out of the church the same way she came. If Bellamy had his way, he would have kept her there to interrogate her to no end. It’s probably best Octavia took charge there. 

* * *

Clarke races out of the Church. Anderson is due to wake up at the lab at any moment, and it’s better if she's there when he wakes up.

She surprised herself when she agreed to help them. If they find out how deep in this she is, there’s no way she’s getting out of it alive. But after watching the way Bellamy’s features softened as his sister pleaded with her, the thought of helping them no longer seemed as impossible as it once did.

Her mind drifts to the piece of paper tucked in her pocket. She’s not sure where Octavia got the paper or the pen, but she has the address all the same and she supposes that the logistics of where a pen and a piece of paper materialized from isn’t all that important, but it’s curious nonetheless.

Everyone reacts to sedatives differently, so Clarke can’t be sure Anderson is still passed out until she unlocks the closet to see him lying unconscious on the floor. The ten-thousand-pound weight resting on her shoulders eases itself just a little, but there’s still the matter of explaining to him why she drugged him.

It’s a struggle, but with adrenaline pumping through her veins and all the strength she can muster up, she’s able to prop him up in a chair. The minutes tick by and it’s the most excruciatingly long wait, though when she looks at the clock and sees only two minutes have passed she realizes it hasn’t been that long at all. Her friend Jasper used to always joke about how time isn’t real, that ‘it’s just another way for the government to control you’. His words were likely the side effect of one to many hits from his homemade bong, but he was right. It’s a shame she can’t tell him that now. His death is still fresh in her mind, even four years later.

Anderson stirs from beside her, pushing her memories of Jasper to the back of her mind. She waits with bated breath for him to regain full consciousness. She hopes she can explain the situation to him in a way that he’ll understand, but if it comes down to it she’s ready for a fight. She’s always ready for a fight.

His eyes dart around the room and when they land on Clarke they are wide and full of hurt. She doesn’t deserve any better—she did betray both him and the trust they had built.

“Before you say or do anything, just let me explain. _Please._ ”

He nods and she’s almost too surprised to speak, but she finds the words—what she hopes are the right ones—because after all Madi’s safety depends on it.

“I ran into some trouble at the cafe earlier today. Two people from my past showed up and started asking all these questions. Someone told them I’m connected to all of this,” she gestures around her, unsure of how to define what part she exactly plays in all of this. “I told them I would meet them tonight. So I drugged you and I’m sorry, really I am, but I was afraid if I didn’t meet them that they would just come back and make more of an uproar.” She shakes her head. “So I drugged you and snuck out to meet them.”

She hasn’t had the guts to look at him until now, but he’s pointedly listening with a neutral expression. Clarke’s rapid pulse slows, and she can keep going. “They have some family that went missing, I think they think they were turned into zombies and so they asked for my help.” She doesn’t know what to say and so she opts not to say anything at all.

“Are you going to?”

“What?”

“Help them—are you going to help them?” Anderson’s question catches her off guard, but when she looks at him she sees genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know, I hadn’t decided. There’s a lot to think about,” she offers. 

“Like what?” he asks.

“If I don’t help they’ll probably come back to try again and I don’t want to run the risk of Cage finding out and hurting them. But if I do help, they could find out how involved I am and take it out on me—or worse—Madi.” She shivers at the thought. “It’s just a lot to think about and too many lives are at stake. I told them I would help, just for the sake of giving myself some time to think about all of it and weigh my options.”

A silence hangs in the air and she wonders if this is the part where he runs to the other guards to turn her in. Surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in close to her and whispers despite the fact they are the only two in the room.

“What do you need from me?”

Her brow furrows and for a moment she’s confused, but then it dawns on her that he’s offering to help. She weighs the pros and cons as best as she can much as she does before any life-altering decision whether it involves her life or not.

“I can’t let you do that, it’s too dangerous. Trust me, the less you know the safer you’ll be, the safer your family will be.” While she would like his help and recognizes that he could be incredibly helpful, it’s too great a risk. He’s got a wife and a kid and life ahead of him, a peaceful enough life if he keeps his head down and stays out of trouble. She refuses to be the reason someone else’s life is ruined, not if she can help it.

“Oh come on, Clarke you know I can be helpful. Did you ever think that maybe I’m doing this for my family? Maybe I’m doing this because I want to set an example for my son, show him what doing the right thing looks like. I don’t want him going through life thinking his dad was weak for not standing up and helping people when he had the opportunity. _Please,_ Clarke, let me help you.” His voice is pleading.

She thinks about his words, letting their weight sink beneath her skin as they make their way to her heart. Her resolve weakens. She wishes she could be stronger, give him a definite ‘no,’ but he has a point and she thinks that if the roles were reversed she would fight just as hard as he is now.

“Fine.” She bites her lip. “But we do this my way, alright? I don’t want you in any unnecessary danger, Janine would have my head.”

He laughs at that and the tension in the room releases. Truth be told, having him on her side is a relief. For so long she’s been alone in this war, had to carry the weight of her sins alone, but now she has a friend to lean on. For the first time since she found the cure, she feels the promise of hope.

* * *

Bellamy and Octavia settle in their hotel room for the night, neither one of them dared to discuss the events that transpired earlier. He’s too afraid that talking about it makes it real, and if it’s real there’s a chance this all blows up in his face. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if this goes wrong. Finding his family rides entirely on Clarke helping them. 

His sister is the first to speak. “I can’t believe Clarke Griffin of all people-”

So much for avoiding the subject. “O, can we not talk about this right now?”

“Come on, Bell. You can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it too.”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” He’s lying, of course, but he does his best to put the conversation to rest.

Like usual, Octavia has other plans. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that? Besides, what’s the big deal?”

“Nothing, I just am not going to get my hopes up that the princess is gonna come through for us, that’s all.”

She smirks. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a killjoy?”

“You do, every chance you get.”

“Well can you blame me? All I’m saying is maybe you should let go of whatever petty grudge you have against her, it’ll make this whole partnership a lot easier for all of us, especially me.”

The words fall out of his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. “I don’t have a petty grudge against her.”

“Oh yeah? Tell that to the sour look on your face. It’s been there since she walked into the church.”

“Whatever, I’m going to shower.”

“If you take all the hot water, I’ll kick your ass.”

“You mean you’ll try.”

“I meant what I said.”

The screech of the faucet turning on sends a wave of relief throughout his body. After the events of today, he wants nothing more than to let the hot water wash away the tension locked in his muscles. He tries his damndest to block out Octavia’s accusations, but it's moot because in all actuality she’s right. He’s not sure when or how it began, he just knows that at some point during the class they shared he began to loathe Clarke Griffin. He thought he was over it, even when he saw her at the cafe. He could tell she was different, but then she was so damn stubborn at the church that his hatred for her returned. 

_Okay_ , so maybe hate is a strong word, after all, she did agree to help them. She couldn’t be that bad, could she? He thinks back to the first time he saw her, which was coincidentally their first argument in class. He doesn’t remember the specifics of it, all he remembers is the professor partnering them up for an assignment after as a way to try and get them to reconcile. That only made it worse. For the rest of the semester, they were constantly at odds and he wonders if it was genuine or just out of spite.

The question runs a constant loop in his mind throughout the rest of the night, along with the image of her piercing blue eyes. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have some attraction to her back in college, but their constant bickering killed any urge he had to ask her out. Now he’s not sure what to think about her. She is more gorgeous than ever—there’s no denying that—but she’s hiding something. And there’s no way in hell he can entertain the idea of being with her if he can’t even trust her. 

Octavia is sound asleep next to him and it’s relieving that she’s still able to sleep so soundly. He’s done everything he can to take the burdens of this world and let them rest solely on his shoulders. Just like Atlas. His mother called him that, one time, and the memory of her claws at his chest. He wonders if she’s the reason or if he’s always been this way and he’s only just now becoming self-aware enough to see it. Thinking about his mother is a rare occasion. He tries his best to bury thoughts of her, all it ever does is cause him pain. He’s just thankful she never had to see him become the monster he is today.

* * *

Today is a special day for Clarke. She can hardly focus on her work with the idea of reuniting with her daughter at the forefront of her mind. They usually keep Madi in a separate location while Clarke sleeps on a bed in a room at the far corner of the lab. It’s not even really a room, it’s not like there is a door, just a curtain to provide a small sense of privacy. But privacy while working for Cage is a hoax.

Clarke remembers moments of her life in two categories. Before the zombies when Madi used to live with her, when she used to love her job, and when her only worry was getting Madi to school on time or remembering to take a lunch break. Now she lives in the after 

Keeping Madi from her is one of the many ways Cage keeps control over her life. Not seeing her every day and not knowing what’s happening to her keeps a certain level of fear stagnant in her veins. That fear is what keeps her from breaking any of Cage’s rules.

That fear vanishes the moment Madi comes running into the cafe. Clarke wraps her arms around her daughter so tight she’s almost afraid she’ll crush her in half.

“Clarke, can’t breathe,” Madi struggles to say.

“Sorry.” Clarke pulls back, despite never wanting to let her daughter go. “I’ve missed you. I had to get about three days worth of hugs in.”

No matter how hard it is, Clarke always manages to mask a brave face in front of Madi. She’s afraid that one day Madi will make the mistake of trying to protect her and if she does, she’ll only get hurt. Since the day Clarke adopted her, she’s been this force of nature ready to fight and protect the ones she loves. Sometimes she thinks about which one of her biological parents she inherited that from. 

Madi doesn’t remember much about her parents. She was five when she was placed with Clarke and six when Clarke adopted her. She has a few pictures and mementos back at their house, but Cage is far too cruel to let her keep them with her. 

They aren’t usually allowed to leave the cafe on their days together, but today Anderson is the guard and he always lets them walk to the park down the block after they eat. Another reason Clarke is both thankful for him and terrified to accept his help.

“So what are you hungry for today?”

“Ooh, can we have those grilled sandwiches like last time? And maybe some berries?” Madi grins.

“Anything you want.” Clarke smiles. Madi has had her wrapped around her finger since the day she met her. 

Clarke makes the sandwiches and berries while Anderson talks with Madi. It’s nice to see she has someone other than Clarke to talk to. She can hear distant laughing from the kitchen, and her heart constricts. It destroys her that she can only hear that sound twice a week rather than every day. But fights to keep the tears at bay until after Madi is taken back to wherever they are keeping her. Always until Madi is gone. 

Five minutes pass and finally, the food is ready. She takes a tray out to the table and sets a plate in front of Madi and one in front of Anderson. Madi digs in immediately, shoving the food into her face.

“Slow down before you choke,” Clarke reprimands.

Madi smiles at her but doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. Clarke tries not to think if there is a deeper meaning to it. Do they feed her enough? Does she refuse to eat out of protest? Does the food they feed her have enough nutritional value? She makes a note to ask Anderson once Madi leaves, for now, she’ll enjoy the limited time they have together.

Once they’re done eating, Madi pulls a piece of paper from her back pocket. She always has a present for Clarke. This time it’s a drawing of the two of them in a field of white tulips smiling. Clarke’s heart swells three sizes and though she tries not to be she’s on the verge of crying.

“It’s beautiful Madi, I love it,” she chokes out. “I swear your drawings get better every time I see them.”

“I get my artistic abilities from you. Who knows, maybe I’ll be an artist one day.” Madi smiles.

Anderson taps the table. “Okay, what do you say we head to the park?”

Clarke is thankful for the interruption—without it, she might have been crying. Instead of dwelling on it, she watches as Madi bounces up and down chanting a string of ‘yes, yes, yes’. Clarke runs to the kitchen to place the dishes in the sink before they go.

The walk to the park is peaceful. The sun is out with no cloud in sight, and for that Clarke is thankful. Her daughter deserves to enjoy a beautiful day like today. 

“What’s your first name?” 

The question catches her off guard at first, but then she realizes Madi is talking to Anderson

“Who wants to know?” he asks playfully.

Madi giggles. “I do, don’t you think it’s weird people only call you by your last name?” she asks innocently.

The thing Madi doesn’t understand is that the guards are essentially Cage’s soldiers and soldiers only ever go by their last names, but Clarke doesn’t have it in her to explain that.

“It’s Mat,” he offers simply. “It’s short for Matise.”

Something in Clarke breaks. Learning he has a first name is like some catalyst in realizing he’s a real person. Of course, he’s a real person, but now he’s _really_ real. She thinks maybe he’s named after her favorite artist Henri Matisse or maybe his mother just heard the name and liked it. Either way hearing his name out loud raises the stakes somehow. She’s not sure what to do with this information. All she knows is that now isn’t the time to think about it.

“I like it, can I call you Uncle Mat?”

The question isn’t meant to hold as much weight as it does. Mat— _Anderson_ ; she corrects herself—looks over to her for guidance, but she’s too shocked to provide any. She shrugs at him, unsure of the right thing to say. 

“I don’t see why not,” he responds.

Clarke bites her tongue. There are a few reasons why it’s a bad idea, but they’re all selfish and Clarke can’t bring herself to take this moment from her daughter. Mat is probably the closest thing Madi has to family besides Clarke.

Madi goes to play on the swings while she and Mat— _Anderson_ ; she corrects herself again—watch. 

He’s watching Madi with half his attention and Clarke with the other. “Sorry, I can tell her to call me Anderson if you want.” 

There’s a sense of understanding in his eyes and that’s when Clarke decides to set aside her urge to tell him that that’s probably for the best. “No, it’s fine, really.” She doesn’t think her smile reaches her eyes or that she sounds all that convincing but he smiles anyway.

The rest of their day goes by without any more awkward conversations, thankfully. Clarke gives Madi another bone-crushing hug before promising to see her in three days and kissing her on the head goodbye. Tears well in her eyes as she watches Mat escort her daughter back to wherever it is Cage is keeping her.

When Madi is finally out of sight, the floodgates open and Clarke collapses to the ground in a fit of heart-wrenching sobs.

* * *

“This is nice,” Octavia says. And she’s right, it’s a beautiful day outside. 

He was cleaning his gun, doing his best to keep his hands busy when Octavia suggested they get out of the hotel and go for a walk. It was a good idea considering he’d otherwise just be anxiously waiting for Clarke to show up and driving his sister crazy.

“Yeah,” he mutters.

“Look. I know you are probably going insane wondering when Clarke will get in touch—lord knows you’re driving me crazy—but just have some faith in her okay? She’ll come through.”

“How can you be so sure? You don’t even really know her.”

“And neither do you,” Octavia retorts in that defiant way she seems to do everything.

“I know her a lot better than you do.”

Octavia scoffs. “Right, because people are incapable of change,” she says sarcastically. “Look, all I’m saying is she promised to help us and my gut tells me she will. Aren’t you always telling me to trust my gut?” The trademark Blake smirk is on her face

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well I lied,” he bites.

She lands a playful punch to his shoulder as they continue on their walk. “Speaking of...”

Bellamy furrows his brows at his sister and she tilts her head toward the other side of the street. He sees what she sees and suddenly all the air in his lungs mysteriously disappears. Leave it to the woman he has a grudge against to have this effect on him. 

“I wonder what she’s doing at the park.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it’s not nearly as embarrassing as if he were to say some of the other things he’s thinking out loud.

“Looks like she’s not alone.”

He’s not sure how he didn’t see it before, but his sister is right. Clarke is with a man who looks to be about his age or maybe a little younger, and a young girl who looks to be about twelve or thirteen. The girl has long curly brown hair and a smile so bright it reminds him of a time when Octavia was younger and hadn’t yet seen the cruelties of the world. The man she’s with is fairly tall and muscular, with tan skin like he might be a mix of two different races, possibly black and white. His hair is short, likely a military cut. He looks familiar, and Bellamy tugs at his memory to place him.

_That’s it_. The day they went to see Clarke at the cafe. He was one of the guards. 

Bellamy hasn’t moved since he spotted them. He can feel Octavia’s eyes on him but he doesn’t care, he’s too focused on the blonde across the street and trying to figure out who she’s with. Maybe the young girl is her sister, but she looks nothing like her. No matter who the young girl is, there’s no question she’s important to Clarke. Suddenly the conversation and her behavior at the church make a bit more sense, though he needs more information to complete the picture. But he thinks he might understand her a little better than he did before. Like him, she’s also likely trying to protect someone she loves.

Octavia breaks him out of his thoughts. “Are we just going to stand here so you can stare at her all day?”

He rolls his eyes and takes off to finish their walk without her. She rushes to catch up to him and, just as he suspected, she’s not willing to let the subject drop.

“I’m starting to get the feeling your detestation of her is just an act.” Octavia waggles her eyebrows.

“We’re not talking about this, Octavia.”

“Fine, have it your way, but you and I both know I’m right.”

The rest of their walk is filled reminiscing on the happier times of their childhood. It’s nearly a perfect day. Nearly. But of course, Bellamy’s mind can’t help but wander to the way a sadness lingered in Clarke’s eyes whenever the young girl she was with wasn’t looking. Back in college, she was this infuriating yet mesmerizing force to be reckoned with. Something put that sadness in her eyes, and it pains him to think what it might have been.

* * *

By the time Mat makes it back to the lab, sans Madi, Clarke has put herself back together. 

But he knows, he always knows. “She wanted me to remind you to hang the drawing.”

“As if I would forget,” she jokes. Clarke wants to ask if Madi was sad when he dropped her off, but she doesn’t know if she could handle the answer. She wants to ask what information she should share with the Blake siblings but she wants to avoid involving Mat for as long as possible.

“So I’ve been thinking about your friends,” he says. He doesn’t agree with her trying to keep him out of all of this.

Clarke wants to correct them and say that they aren’t her friends, but she’s afraid that maybe it’ll mean less to him and then what’s stopping him from running and telling the other guards what she’s doing. So instead she stays quiet and plays along.

“How much are you wanting to involve them?” 

“I’d rather not involve them at all, but here we are,” she says, slightly bitter. “They are just looking for some family members that have gone missing and might have been turned into zombies.”

“Well if you know their names I could ask around, see if anyone knows where they are but are you sure that’s all they want?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I mean, if I wasn’t a zombie and my wife was taken and turned into one I’d want to take down the person responsible.”

She sometimes forgets that she’s essentially surrounded by zombies twenty-four, seven. Mat seems so normal, and he never eats around her so it’s easy to forget. But then she remembers that everyone in Cage’s guard is a zombie, even Mat.

“I don’t think so, they don’t seem like the revenge-seeking type.” She believes it, probably more than anything else. It’s not like she knows the Blakes, but based on what she remembers about them they seem like very private people and seeking revenge, exposing themselves in that way seems to go against the idea of them she’s painted in her mind. Then again, she never thought she’d be where she is right now so what does she really know?

“You can never predict the lengths people will go to protect their family. You of all people should know that,” he points out.

Clarke doesn’t think he means it as an insult, but it’s a punch to the gut all the same. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

He nods solemnly before speaking. “Do you know their names so I can ask around?”

“Yeah, uhm, one’s name is Lincoln and the other goes by Miller, though I’m not sure if that’s his first or last name.”

He thinks for a second. “Could his name be _Nathan_ Miller?”

“Yeah that sounds about right, do you know him?” A pit forms in her stomach. She’s not sure if she wants to know because that would mean she turned Bellamy Blake’s best friend into a zombie.

“Uhm, yeah, he’s- he’s one of Cage’s guards. He accompanies him whenever he goes on trips.”

It’s worse than she could have imagined. She’s subjected Nathan Miller to being Cage Wallace’s _right-hand man_. She can only imagine the extent of things he must have seen or been forced to do and she feels instantly sick. Maybe she hears Mat ask if she’s alright, though she can’t be sure she nods anyway. 

“I can’t tell them that,” she states. “I can’t tell them that someone they care about is being forced to help the man responsible for this.” She needs to sit down. She needs to find a chair and sit down before she passes out. 

“So what are you going to tell them then?” His voice is laced with concern.

Clarke ponders her options. She can’t tell the Blake siblings the whole truth. Despite her behavior, sometimes she doesn’t have a death wish. With all the arguments she and Bellamy used to get into in class, maybe he’s too hot-headed to handle something like this. There’s no way she can’t tell him Miller is a zombie—he’d find out the second they’re reunited.

“I’ll figure something out, just ask around about Lincoln,” she sighs. “Discreetly.” 

He nods and exits the lab. Clarke can’t help the sickly feeling that takes hold of her gut, the suffocating grip refusing to lessen no matter how hard she wills it to. Maybe it’s a warning—a warning that she’s not doing the right thing, or that none of this will end well and it’ll be all her fault. Whatever it means, it keeps her up all night. She doesn’t get an ounce of sleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit! I was not expecting the response that I got at all! Your comments were so amazing I literally got emotional reading them I couldn't even respond I was speechless at all your kind words. I still don't know what to say, to be honest, but thank you guys sooo much for reading it and commenting and leaving kudos it means the world to me you have no idea!!
> 
> As always you can find me on twitter @bihaileyupton or on tumblr @shaeheda
> 
> Like all my fics there is a playlist to accompany it and help set the mood, you can listen to it [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2VYJAO3jWuEldhGUrL1yNT?si=0ZssxzhyRsGZFK0la-UXMg) and some wonderful art which can be found [here](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/post/625646922497245184/for-shaehedas-wonderful-fic-for-bellarkebigbang)
> 
> The chapter is a little bit angsty, so happy reading friends!

Clarke can practically hear Bellamy Blake berating her for not contacting him sooner, but it’s not like she really has a choice. Mat isn’t on duty until tomorrow and sneaking out while he isn’t there to look out for her isn’t an option. She still hasn’t worked out what she’s going to tell the siblings about Miller, but for once she’s got time to figure it out.

“Clarke!”

She knows that voice and it’s not a welcomed one. She knows that tone, it freezes the blood in her veins and makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand upright. Despite that to the untrained ear, it would sound happy, she knows better. She knows he’s about to ask her to do something she isn’t going to wanna do. Something that will eat away at her, make her hate herself more than she already does, more than she ever thought possible.

It’s a rare occasion for Cage to come down to the lab. Of course, he owns the place so he can visit wherever he wants, but he generally keeps his distance and that’s the way Clarke prefers it. He’s standing across the workspace absentmindedly picking up things he shouldn’t be touching and inspecting them like he knows what they are for. Clarke wishes she could tell him not to touch things in the lab but even the smallest of remarks would put her and Madi in danger.

“What do you want, Cage?” she asks. Her question wasn’t meant to sound as bitter as it did but maybe if he hears the disgust in her tone he’ll get to his point and then make his exit. It’s unlikely, but a girl can dream.

As she suspected he didn't answer her question right away. He always has to indulge in theatrics. “How are our volunteers doing?”

He knows they aren’t volunteers and so does she. Maybe that’s something he tells himself to sleep at night, but she can’t lie to herself like that. The truth eats away at her no matter how she tries to twist it. For a split second, she’s tempted to correct him. Why should he get to hide from the cold reality she forces herself to face every day? But it’s better if she doesn’t, she wants him out of her lab as quickly as possible.

“They’re fine. All brain markers are where they’re supposed to be. They seem to be healthy, all things considered.” Clarke hasn’t taken her eyes off of him since he walked in, she doesn’t intend to either. As much as looking at him disgusts her, watching him and clocking his every move is just one of the many things she has no choice but to do.

When Clarke began working for Cage he seemed fairly harmless, sans the creepy misogynistic vibe he had about him. She figured if she minimized her interactions with him under the guise of working hard to find a cure things would be fine. She used to think she was more perceptive than the average person, but Cage proved her wrong when he took the cure from her and locked her in the lab. Over the years she’s worked hard to build some semblance of trust between them in the hopes that she’ll be able to use it to her advantage when it’s time to take him down. 

Cage is a simple man, at least she thinks he is. Like almost every white man in America, he craves power. Beyond that, there isn’t much to him. If there is he’s good at hiding his motives and that scares her to think about. She’s worked out that he’s responsible for the zombie outbreak and for the pathogen that turns people into zombies. She doesn’t know much about the logistics, whether he came up with the pathogen himself or if it was an accident he took advantage of. Her money is on the latter. She’s come up with countless scenarios as to why he does this but nothing seems to make enough sense, but then again nothing about anything he does is done with rhyme or reason as far as she can tell. 

“Good, that’s good,” he says with a malicious smile. “I’ve got a bit of a proposition for you.”

Something about the word ‘proposition’ coming from him makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t respond, partly because she’s too nauseous to and also because if she interrupts him that just delays him in getting to the point.

“Next week we’re going to be rounding up some recruits, I’ll need you to make some more of the pathogen, and then next week I’ll need you to help them all through the transition.”

She thinks back to her conversation with Mat and how he said that Cage met with the mayor to obtain more funding to make more zombies and an enormous pit forms in her stomach. He doesn’t normally ask for her help, usually his guard can handle three people. The fact that he’s asking can only mean one thing: it’s a much larger group.

“How many recruits?” she asks with a false sense of calmness to try and mask her nerves.

“Twenty-five. Twenty new guards and five volunteers for the donation process.” Something about the way his voice goes up an octave tells her he’s excited. There’s a sickening glint in his eye that makes her nauseous.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she asks, “when are we getting these recruits?” She wants to scream, yell at him for putting her in this position. She wants to ask him if he plans to turn the whole American population, but she’s afraid of the answer she’ll get.

“Monday, so you better get to work.” He turns around to make his way out of the lab.

Despite wanting him out of her lab she stops him before he makes it out of the door. “Wait! You said it was a proposition, that implies there's something in it for me,” she says. She can’t bring herself to ask what she’ll get out of all this.

Cage turns around to face her with his hands laced behind his back. “Well, I’m going to need to take McCreary from you so you’ll get to choose a new guard from the recruits,” he answers. “And I’ll let you have an extra day of visitation with Madi.”

“Two, I want two extra days,” she counters without even thinking.

He narrows his eyes at her. “Fine, a new guard and two extra days with Madi.”

She breathes a sigh of relief but the relief is short-lived as she hears him add, “Thank you for your service, Clarke,” before leaving. Bile rises in her throat and she has to wait until she hears the lab door shut before she leans over and empties the contents of her stomach into the small trash bin.

A million thoughts are racing through her head and as much as she wants to celebrate getting extra days with Madi, she can’t. It’s Wednesday night which means that she’s only got four days to prepare for the hell Cage is about to unleash on her. There isn’t much she can do tonight so she opts for attempting to get some sleep. She’s not at all surprised when it doesn’t come.

* * *

She’s spent all of the next day working on making enough pathogen for twenty recruits, but it’s hard to get anything done with all the rackett the guards are making to build new cells for the other five people they will bring in for her to torture.

It takes them all day but eventually they finish. It’s nightfall when Mat brings her dinner and sits with her like he always does when he’s on duty. As he sets her tray in front of her she notices a cut on his hand.

“You’re hurt,” she says before walking over and grabbing the First Aid kit.

“Must have gotten it while building…” he trails off. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence because she knows exactly what he was doing.

Clarke sets her tray aside. “Give me your hand,” she orders.

“It’s fine, really, it’s not even bleeding,” he protests. “Besides I doubt you’ve eaten all day, you need dinner more than I need my hand patched up.” He smiles softly.

“I can eat after I wrap your hand,” she counters. 

Either Mat takes pity on her or she’s got her ‘mom’ look down to perfection.  _ ‘Probably the former’ _ she thinks. She hasn’t looked in a mirror so she can only guess she looks like shit. Her hair has begun to fall out of her braid and she’s sure the bags under her eyes have only gotten worse with the lack of sleep from tossing and turning all night. He glances at her and she recognizes the look of concern in his eye. It’s the same once she gives Madi when she’s not looking. She never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look. It makes her angry, but she knows that it’s because he cares.

Since day one, they've had something of an understanding between them and it’s only grown stronger since she drugged him. It seems counterintuitive but for some reason, she trusts him more than she did before and she thinks he might feel the same. She tries not to put too much thought into the complexities of their friendship, it’s too much to think about when she’s got the recruits and the pathogen to worry about.

She’s finished with his hand and he’s reaching over to grab her tray and place it in front of her again. “So demanding and not even a thank you,” she rolls her eyes. She’s surprised at her ability to still make a joke given the pressure she’s currently under. But he smiles at her so he must recognize the joke despite the fact that she rarely ever makes them.

“Thank you,” he offers. “Now eat.”

They eat in comfortable silence. Well, she eats while Mat shovels food in his mouth to keep up the appearance of normalcy because he doesn’t need the food that’s in front of him. 

“You should probably go visit your friends tonight, give them some information,” he breaks the silence.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she says solemnly. She still hasn’t figured out exactly what she’s going to tell them.

“Do you know what you’re going to tell them?” Mat asks.

She almost laughs but her nerves don’t allow her too. “No, any word on Lincoln?”

“I’ve heard of a couple of different places he might be stationed, but I haven’t got it narrowed down.”

At least she’s closer to finding him than she was yesterday. She eats the last bit of food off her tray. She grabs her jacket off the seat next to her. If she wants to get back at a decent hour she needs to leave now.

Mat reaches into his back pocket and pulls out some cash. “I’d feel a lot better if you took a cab instead of walking,” he says handing her the cash.

She takes it not because she wants to but because she thinks it probably brings him some comfort knowing she’s accepting his help. She was reluctant at first but now she’s thankful for his help. If she could do this on her own she would, however, realizes that only makes things harder for her and she’s more likely to slip up and get caught. She offers him a quick nod before slipping out the back door to catch a cab that will take her to the hotel Bellamy and Octavia are staying at.

* * *

When she arrives at the hotel her nerves are at an all-time high. She wonders if they’ll be mad or may be suspicious that it’s taken her this long to get the information. She stalls at their hotel door for ten whole minutes before she’s able to work up the courage to knock.

Bellamy is the one to open the door and for a moment she’s taken back by how handsome he looks. Amid all the tension of their first two meetings, she wasn’t able to take note of how beautiful he is, but now it’s clear as day. She takes him in and lets her eyes briefly trail up and down his body. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that are just snug enough to accentuate his muscular things. She notes the way his crisp white shirt contrasts his skin and makes his Filipino complexion stand out. He’s got a flannel on over it that hugs his biceps nicely. What she doesn’t expect is the way seeing him in glasses makes her heart skip ever so slightly. 

He interrupts her thoughts when he clears his throat. “Hi,” he greets her awkwardly. 

“Hi,” she says back. She’s waiting for him to invite her in but neither of them makes a move.

“Hey Bell who’s at- oh, hey Clarke,” Octavia smiles. “Come on in.” Her tone suggests she thinks Clarke has good news which only makes Clarke all the more nervous to let her down.

“Thanks,” Clarke mutters. She briefly feels the ripples of his chest as she slips past Bellamy. It’s enough to jumble her thoughts.

“So did you find them?” Octavia asks excitedly.

Clarke doesn’t know where to start. She should have been more prepared and came up with a story before she got there. Bellamy must sense she either has bad news or no news because he startles her when he scoffs from across the room.

“No she didn’t,” he steps in. “You have no idea where they are do you?” His tone is angry.

She knows he has every right to be angry with her. For starters, the siblings have probably been going stir crazy waiting for her to bring them any piece of information she could get. It’s taken her longer than it should have to visit them. To top it off she comes bearing bad news. 

There’s no way she can tell them about Miller, at least not yet. She thinks about playing along with Bellamy’s question, pretending she has no idea where Lincoln and Miller are. But she makes the mistake of looking over at Octavia and that thought disappears almost as fast as it appeared.

“I know where they are, kind of,” she says.

“What do you mean kind of?” Bellamy challenges.

Octavia doesn’t try to reign in her brother as she did at the church. Clarke doesn’t think she deserves the break anyway. “I know of a couple of places they might be, but things are a little hectic with the recruits right now,” she says. It’s out of her mouth before she can think better of it. It’s out there and she can’t take it back.

“Recruits?” Octavia asks.

There’s no turning back now, she’ll have to offer up as much information as she has without giving herself away. “They call them recruits or guard members but it’s just a polite way of saying zombies. There’s a mass recruiting happening next week so it’s hard to track anyone down right now. But I’m working on it, I promise I’m working on it. I want you to be able to reunite with your family, believe me, it’s just going to take a bit more time,” she sighs.

Of course, that isn’t enough to cure Bellamy’s curiosity. “So we just sit around, let other people have their families ripped apart?” he raises his voice.

“Look, I know it’s not ideal but—”

“Not ideal?” he cuts her off. “How can you be okay with them just turning whoever they want into zombies, ruining people's lives without a second thought?”

He’s not questioning anything she doesn’t already ask herself every day. But it somehow hurts more coming from him. She doesn’t say a word, just lets him verbally rip her apart because she thinks she deserves it.

“Just because we had one class together five or six years ago doesn’t mean you know anything about me,” she shouts.

There is an emotion that flashes across his face, but it's gone before she has any time to analyze what it was or what it could mean. She’s not naive, she knows what people used to say about her in college and how they judged her. She was ‘too stuck up’ or ‘too self-centered’. It’s not like she ever cared about what people said about her behind her back, but she’d never had to come face to face with those judgments either, until now. This was different somehow, maybe because it was  _ him _ . She never thought Bellamy was the type to take stock in what other people said, apparently she was wrong. 

“Trust me, I know all I need to know about you, princess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She’s confused because before last week they hadn’t spoken in years let alone seen each other. It’s not like they were best friends in college either, in fact, they were constantly at each other’s throats seeing who would be the first to give in during a debate. He couldn’t possibly know anything about her beyond the judgment he’s formed of her in his head and she’s sure there is no way it’s accurate.

“It means you’re not as interested in helping us as you let on,” he accuses.

“If I remember correctly I explicitly told you didn’t want to help you at first, but your sister,” she gestures to Octavia who is standing beside Bellamy, “flashed her award-winning puppy dog eyes at me so I agreed, despite the danger that it would put me and the people I care about it, so a thank you would be nice.” 

Bellamy runs his hands through his curls, clearly frustrated. “A thank you? For what? You haven’t given us anything.”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe a ‘thank you for trying’ or how about ‘thank you, Clarke, for risking your life and your family to help us find ours’, that’d be a good place to start.” She crossed her arms.

“Yeah and what about those recruits you mentioned? What about their families? Are you just going to let them get ripped apart and become part of this vicious cycle instead of doing something to prevent it?” Bellamy raises his voice and it visibly shocks both Clarke and Octavia. 

He is clearly out of line, but what did she expect when he only has half the truth? His reaction is reasonable given the circumstances and what he knows, but that doesn’t stop her from digging her feet in the sand just a little bit deeper.

“What do you want from me? Their fate is already decided, there’s nothing I can do for them.” Suddenly her voice level is matching his.

“Nothing you can do for them? You’re right, I know nothing about you, you’re nothing like I thought you were. Are you really just going to sit and let those people get turned into zombies and not do anything about it? Do you even care about anyone other than yourself?”

That’s enough to snap her out of her self deprecating spiral. He knows nothing about her and has no idea of the lengths she’ll go to protect those she cares about. “No of course not,” she says sarcastically. “I’m here risking everything to try and help your family because I only care about myself. You don’t know me, so don’t pretend as you do! I’m doing the best I can!”

“Well that’s not good enough,” he yells back.

“I’m just one person, I don’t know what you expect me to do. This is so much bigger than you realize, so maybe think about that before you accuse me of not caring. I’m doing the best I can to help you find your family. I can’t just go in guns blazing because you think I should be doing more, I’m not going to risk my family for yours. If that’s not enough for you let me know so I can stop putting the people I care about in danger to help you.”

Both siblings are stunned silent. She can’t blame them, she kind of surprised herself. It was likely the build-up of all the stress surrounding the recruits that caused her to explode like that. She’d like to say she was sorry, but she’s not.

When they don’t say anything she takes a deep breath. “Just think about what you want to do and let me know,” is all she says before she leaves to go back to the lab.

She returns to find Mat who is waiting for her with a million questions. She had the entire cab ride to think about the interaction with Bellamy and Octavia and beat herself up for exploding on them. It’s not in her nature to lose control like that.

The look on Mat’s face is exactly what she’d expect. He’s shocked by her behavior, but he seems to be almost proud.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just proud of you. You let Cage walk all over you and I get why, it's just nice to hear you stick up for yourself for once,” he says with a smile.

Clarke just rolls her eyes and shoos him away so she can get back to work.

* * *

Friday's were supposed to be her days with Madi. Unfortunately because of Cage’s request, she wouldn’t get to spend time with her daughter today. She tried to think about the extra time she would be getting, but it did little to distract her from how much she missed her.

Madi, of course, was as understanding as ever that Clarke had some work to do. She hugged her mom and told her it was okay and she was looking forward to getting to spend time with Uncle Mat. 

At first, Clarke didn’t like the idea of Madi attaching herself to Mat. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, she found that now she did, even with Madi. But she didn’t want Madi tangled up in all of this any more than she already was. After some thought Clarke came around to the idea, she’d be lying to herself if she said it didn’t hurt to realize that Clarke couldn’t be her only family forever. But the smile on Madi’s face every time she sees Mat is enough to ease the hurt.

Having Madi so close yet not being able to see her is making it hard for Clarke to concentrate, but she tries her best to focus on the task at hand anyway.

* * *

Bellamy decides that he’s had enough time to think about Clarke’s words. He thought about the young girl he saw Clarke with that day in the park and that’s ultimately the reason he decides to give her a break. She’s right, she has her own family that she needs to protect and he has to respect that. 

“Hey O, I’m going to head to the cafe and apologize to Clarke, I’ll be back in a bit,” he calls out.

She’s focusing on sharpening her sword, something she only does when she’s mad at him. Mostly because he won’t let her leave the hotel, so she just mumbles what he thinks is an ‘okay’, though he’s not entirely sure. 

Octavia just wants to get to Lincoln and Bellamy understands, really he does. But Octavia tends to be reckless and do things without thinking and that’s dangerous. Clarke said they need to lay low and he understands why. The stakes are too high to go in guns blazing when they don’t even really know who the wizard behind the curtain is. He feels a dull ache begin to form in the back of his head and he tries to erase any thoughts of zombies before it turns to a full-blown migraine.

Bellamy’s almost sorry he ever brought her with him, but at least with her here he can keep an eye on her instead of worrying about the thousands of horrible things that could happen to her if he had left her back home. He takes one look at her and sees the way her shoulders sink when she thinks he isn’t looking. Maybe it’s in his imagination, no it’s very real and very much his fault. Her views of the world have been tainted by death and disappointment and the harsh truths of the world. Everything he tried to protect her from as a kid is now a constant in her life and he hates himself for not doing a better job protecting her. 

He decides to walk to the cafe. It’s nice enough outside and he could use the fresh air to help clear his mind. He spent the majority of the night tossing and turning, playing Clarke’s words over again. He feels guilty for snapping at her the way he did, admittedly it was selfish of him to think he and Octavia were the only ones trying to protect people they care about. 

He wants to press Clarke about whatever it is that she’s hiding, maybe offer his help. It’s the least he can do. But when he gets to the cafe she’s nowhere in sight. He figures she must be around somewhere because he spots the young girl she was with at the park. 

There's a younger guy behind the counter and while he’s disappointed that it’s not Clarke he goes about ordering his coffee anyway. After he grabs his coffee and thanks to the barista he makes his way over to the young girl. She’s got some paper and colored pencils scattered across the table.

“That’s quite the masterpiece you’ve got going there,” he comments.

The young girl turns around and smiles at him. Her smile is kind of infectious he has to admit, it reminds him of a younger Octavia.

“Thanks, I’m drawing my mom and me.” She turns back to her drawing and a piece of hair falls and covers her face.

“I bet she’ll love it, it’s really good.” He examines the drawing further, sees the young girl standing next to a woman with blonde hair, and concludes that Clarke is the girl's mother. It’s not a concise conclusion by any means but he likes to think his powers of deduction are decent enough in this case.

“She’ll probably hang it up in her office, she works really hard so I wanted to give her something nice to look at.”

“Well I can’t think of a better view,” he compliments. “Do you think you want to be an artist when you get older?”

She ponders the question, maybe too seriously for someone her age. “Maybe, my mom used to do art for fun, but she doesn’t anymore and I think it makes her sad,” she says sadly. 

They are interrupted by a man Bellamy also recognizes from the park. “I thought we’ve talked about talking to strangers,” he scolds.

She looks like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and Bellamy doesn’t want to get her in trouble. “I’m sorry it’s my fault. I complimented her about the drawing, she reminds me a lot of what my younger sister was like at that age.”

“I’m Madi, what’s your name?” she asks innocently.

“Bellamy.”

“Nice to meet you, Bellamy,” she says. She turns to the man with a defiant smile. “Now we’re not strangers.” She doesn’t say anything else in favor of continuing to work on her drawing.

Bellamy thinks about asking for Clarke because he desperately wants to apologize to her for getting angry and saying the things he did. He doesn’t want what happened last night to affect her willingness to help them. He needs her, he and his sister both do.

After struggling with the decision to ask about her he figures it’s better if he at least attempts to apologize. “Hey, I was wondering if Clarke is around.” He’s looking at the man next to Madi when he says it but he’s not surprised when Madi is the one to answer.

“Why are you looking for my mom?” she asks.

“Well your mom and I are kind of friends, and I said some things that weren’t very nice so I want to apologize to her,” he answers. 

She narrows her eyes at him, probably trying to determine if he’s telling the truth. “How can you be kind of friends? You're either friends or you're not unless you guys are dating, are you dating my mom?” 

It’s in that moment he chokes on his coffee and possibly sees his life flash before his eyes, though he’s too caught up in Madi’s assumption that he could be dating Clarke to remember. Of course, he thought about asking her out back in college. But he got the sense that she was too good for him. There was also the fact that every conversation they had ended up in an argument which always kind of squashed any opportunity that presented itself. He finds Madi and the man next to her staring at him expectedly and it dawns on him that he never answered.

“No we’re not dating, just old friends.”

Madi looks like she doesn’t quite believe him. “She’s not here today, she had a lot of work to do.”

He hopes the work she’s doing has nothing to do with finding Lincoln or Miller, he’d feel even worse for yelling at her than he already did.

“If you don’t believe me you can ask him,” she adds nodding to the man next to her.

He doesn’t say anything to Bellamy, just nods to confirm Madi’s statement. 

“Okay, well when you see her could you tell her I stopped by?”

“Did you want me to pass along a message?” Mat asks.

He thinks about it for a moment but decides an apology is better coming from him personally and not through word of mouth from someone else. “No that’s okay. It was nice to meet you both.” He turns to leave but Madi’s voice stops him.

“Bye Bellamy!”

“Bye Madi,” he says with a chuckle.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Clarke is still working as tirelessly as ever when Mat gets back to the lab after dropping Madi off.

“Hey, how was today?” she asks. She doesn’t look up from her work. As much as she wants to take a break so she can take in and savor every detail of his time with Madi, she can’t. When Mat doesn’t answer she is forced to look up at him. He’s got a mischievous grin, one she’s never seen before. She can only guess that her daughter did something she shouldn’t have, something only an Uncle would approve of. “What happened?”

“Your friend Bellamy stopped by,” he says trying to hold back his laughter.

A wave of nausea washes over her and she pales instantly. What on earth was Bellamy doing at the cafe? She explicitly remembers telling him he couldn’t visit. 

“He wanted to apologize,” he answers.

The realization hits that she must have verbalized her thoughts. “Apologise for what?”

Mat plops down in the chair on the other side of her work station and rests his arms on the tabletop. “He just said he said some things to you that weren’t nice and he wanted to apologize.”

Panic sets in and weighs down her lungs making it difficult to breathe. She wants to know what he said word for word, but it seems obsessive to ask. A million possibilities are running through her head and she can’t seem to keep any of them straight.

“What else did he say?” She can see Mat eye her suspiciously as soon as the words leave her mouth, but she chooses to ignore it.

“Nothing really, Madi asked him if you guys were dating,” he laughs.

“She did what?!” It should shock her that Madi was so bold and honest with a stranger, but it doesn’t quite. What does shock her is how much the idea of her and Bellamy dating terrifies her the more she thinks about it. Underneath the whole asshole facade, he’s probably a great guy which is why it scares her to think about how much she’d like to be with him. She knows she doesn’t deserve it and she knows he’d never want her, not after everything she’s done.

“Oh loosen up, he extinguished any curiosities she might have had. He looked about as red as you do right now though, it was cute.”

“Yeah really cute,” she says sarcastically. It’s not like she didn’t think about it back in college, she did. But too much has happened since then. She didn’t deserve a good thing like Bellamy. If he knew the things she has done, the role she played in Miller and Lincoln becoming zombies, there’s no way he would want anything to do with her. So she locks the thought deep into the back of her mind, never to see the light of day. 

Mat continues to stare at her like he’s trying to read her mind and she does her best to keep her face neutral. There’s too much on her plate already without having to worry about him peering into the deepest depths of her mind and making her face all the things she’s tried so hard to avoid.

If he stares any longer she may just crack. “So did you and Janine decide what you’re going to do about Chris?” 

He shakes his head and chuckles at her tactics. “Smooth,” he says pointing out her abrupt subject change. “We talked to him about the program and he wants to do it, so we’re gonna let him.”

“That’s great, I’m sure he’s excited,” Clarke smiles. She tries not to think about all that Madi is missing out on. 

“He’s a little nervous, but yeah mostly excited.” The smile on his face is nothing if not full of pride.

They continue the mundane conversation, avoiding the topic of Bellamy all together. Her thoughts about him are entangled in feelings of anger and surprise, mostly surprise. She’s surprised over the fact she’s not as angry at him as she thinks she should be, as much as she wants to be. In truth, her anger at him disappeared as quickly as it appeared. 

Bellamy is the subject of her thoughts more often than not and she can’t work out why. Well, she could but she’s not ready for the conclusion she knows she’d come to. Her thoughts drift to something Mat said earlier when recounting the conversation between Madi and Bellamy. What was it that Bellamy did or said that made Madi think they were dating? Madi is more perceptive than Clarke often gives her credit for so there had to be something.

“Earth to Clarke?” Mat says waving his hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nothing important.” He eyes her suspiciously. ‘What were you thinking about? Or should I say who?”

Clarke could deny it, she wants to deny his implications that she was thinking about Bellamy but she doesn’t have the energy to fight him. Besides, maybe talking about it will get it out of her system and she can go back to work. The quicker she finishes the better.

“Why did Madi ask him if we were dating?”

“Well I can’t speak for her, but my best guess is because she could see how into you he is.”

Now she’s confused. Just the other day he was yelling at her, voicing how disappointed in her he was. There is no way he could be into her, could he?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that he’s into you. I can’t really explain it, he just had this look on his face when he talked about you.”

“That’s insane,  _ you’re _ insane.”

“I hate to break it to you because I’m sure it’s nice in denial land but I’m telling you that man has a crush on you, you just don’t want to see it for whatever reason.”

“Right,” she scoffs.

Mat turns to look at her and she realizes she wasn’t masking her emotions as well as she thought because sudden realization washes over his face, like he was given the answer key five minutes before a test.

“Ah, I get it now,” he smiles.

“Get what?” She plays dumb.

“You’re scared.”

He’s absolutely right. He’s got her pinned into a corner and while she would normally talk her way out of the conversation, with everything going on she doesn’t have the energy to fight him. Of course, she’s scared. She’s being controlled by a tyrannical asshole who’s keeping her daughter held hostage, her life and those she cares about are in constant danger and there’s also the fact that anyone she’s ever loved is gone from her life and if she admits that she likes him to then his fate is sealed. He’s got his own family and she refuses to subject him to a fate of nothing but heartbreak all for a split second of happiness.

“Can you blame me?”

Clarke isn’t looking at him but she can feel the seriousness of his stare. “No, I guess not.”

“I should get back to work,” she says, even though she hasn’t stopped working for the past seventy-two hours. It’s more of a formality to let him know she’s done with the conversation.

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Bellamy got back to the hotel he felt strange. He couldn’t put it into words but he somehow felt heavier? Meeting Clarke’s daughter gave him a new perspective on her that he didn’t know what to do with. Clarke mentioned having a family during their argument but he just assumed that she meant her parents or friends, in the same way that he refers to Miller as his family. But no, she had a daughter. It was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least. 

Now that he had been informed they were mother and daughter he could see the similarities between Clarke and Madi. Looking back on their time in college he realizes that being a mom suits her. She was right, he didn’t know her not truly but he knows her in small fragments. He knows that she is helping him despite the risk it puts her in and he knows by the way Madi talked about her that she’s a good mom. He remembers her sharing her notes with others back in college and making time to help them study. He vaguely remembers Octavia’s friends Jasper and Monty referring to her as ‘mom’.

It hits him, how judgmental he had been of her. He felt bad enough for the fight they had gotten into the night before and now he’s filled with even more regret over the whole situation. His chest feels tight and his lungs begin to cave in. His breathing becomes more shallow as the second’s tick by. Thankfully Octavia steps out of the bathroom.

“Hey what’s going on?” Not only is her voice laced with concern but it’s written all over her face and he hates himself for making her worry. It’s usually the other way around.

“Nothing, just thinking.”

“Well, maybe you should take a break. You look like you’re about to pass out.” She stands there watching him as if he might shatter at any moment.

“I’m fine, I promise”

“Tell that to your heart rate,” she half-jokes. “Want to talk about it?”

Despite not wanting to talk about it he knows she won’t drop the subject if he doesn’t. “I met the little girl we saw with Clarke the other day, turns out it’s her daughter.”

Octavia walks over to the bed and sits next to him. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I guess I’m not really.”

“Yeah the more I thought about it I guess I’m not really either.”

“I suppose that explains the little panic attack you were starting to have a second ago,” she says.

“It wasn’t a panic attack.”

She looks at him and it’s the only retort he needs to accept that yeah, it was kind of a panic attack. “Okay so maybe it was, what does it have to do with anything?”

“Just that knowing she has a daughter has probably got you feeling more guilty over everything that happened last night. You’re probably also worried about the risk she’s putting on herself and her family all to help us.”

He doesn’t say anything because essentially she’s right. He doesn’t think it’s as simple as she made it sound, in his head it all seems more complicated, but at the root of it, he thinks she’s as close as she can get without actually being in his head. She knows him better than anyone else, maybe even himself so who is he to tell her she’s wrong. 

“How are you holding up?” He instantly feels bad for not asking how she’s doing sooner.

“Fine,” she shrugs.

“Right.” He looks at her disbelieving.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but I’m just trying to keep hopeful. I owe Lincoln that much,” she says solemnly.

“I’m sure he knows you’re doing everything you can to find him.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. I’m no good at just sitting around and waiting. I know Clarke is doing what she can, given the circumstances, but it feels like I should be doing more. I don’t even know what more I could be doing it just-” she sighs. “I don’t know, there is so much we don’t know and it’s driving me crazy just sitting here. I just want him back, Bell.”

Listening to his sister settles him in a way he didn’t expect. It’s as if suddenly everything clicked for him. Gone was his sense of dread, replaced with purpose. For the first time in a while, he feels sure of himself. Throughout this whole process of trying to find Lincoln and Miller, he’s always felt this looming dread that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing hanging over him and that eventually, the slightest mistake will hurricane around him. When it does it’ll cost him his life or worse someone he loves.

“I know it’s hard, but Clarke is doing what she can and it’ll all work out, I promise.”

He has this thing about making promises, but he makes an exception for Octavia. There is always an exception for Octavia. He hopes it brings her some comfort because his words are all he can offer her right now. He hopes it’s enough. 

“Thanks, big brother,” she smiles.

She reaches over and hugs him. It grounds him, quiets his thoughts for a moment and he’s able to find relief in the comfort of being able to hug his sister.

“I don’t know about you but all that emotional talk has me starved, what do you say we walk to the diner down the road and grab some dinner?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

* * *

Clarke was going to be too busy finishing up her work to go visit the Blake siblings and to be honest, she felt weird about seeing Bellamy after the things that Mat said. She didn’t know what to think about her feelings for Bellamy or how he would react to seeing her after their fight and after Madi asked him if they were dating. It was all too weird and she couldn’t afford to be distracted. Yet here she was thinking about Bellamy and wondering what was going through his head. She knew he went to the cafe to apologize, he must have felt bad about what he said or maybe he thought she wouldn’t help him if he didn’t. 

She replayed their fight over and over again in her head, the more she did it the more she wondered if there was any truth to what he said. She thinks maybe there is. It’s why there could never be anything romantic between them, deep down he knew she wasn’t a good person. The sad part is he didn’t even know the half of it. It scared her to think about what he might say if he knew the truth. Couldn’t be worse than the things she said about herself. Nothing could be worse than that.

There was a time when she was a good person or at least someone better than who she is now. She wants to place the blame solely on Cage but she knows better than that. She has made her choices and now she has to live with them. 

Mat interrupts her thoughts. “What should I tell them?” 

She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Usually, she has the trip to their hotel to mull it over and come up with something that’s enough information to keep her word, but not enough to expose anything she shouldn’t. 

“You can tell them Miller is here, just don’t tell them too much, say you’ll get him a message about meeting them but that you can’t do more than that to keep them safe. They should be too shocked it’s you giving them information and not me that they won’t question it.” Her shoulders sink a little more. Trying to remember who to keep what from is exhausting.

“And what about their other friend?” he asks, putting on his jacket.

Her chest fills with air before letting out a deep sigh. Mat was able to find where Lincoln was stationed, but if they knew he was so close and not as heavily monitored, that with enough effort they could get to him, it would be catastrophic. Bellamy is reckless enough to go in guns blazing if it means he gets his family back. The second he does that and Cage hears about it she’s doomed. The people who told her where Lincoln is have no sense of loyalty towards her, their loyalty lies with the man who would kill them without a second thought if they didn’t tell him who the mole was. 

“Nothing, I should be the one to tell them about Lincoln. The information about Miller should be enough.” She hopes that she’s right, but Bellamy is a wildcard who she’s never quite been able to figure out and it’s a risk that worries her to no end. 

“You got it, I should be back in a couple of hours. If Lovejoy asks where I am, just tell him I’m in the bathroom or something, but he shouldn’t give you any problems. We both know how lazy he is.” He gives her what she thinks is supposed to be a reassuring smile, but it just makes her more nervous and she can’t explain why. 

It’s possible that she’s nervous because she doesn’t know how Bellamy will react to Mat showing up instead of her, but she needs this distance. It’s for the best.

She returns the smile and gets back to work. She’s nearly done making the pathogen and there’s a sliver of relief that makes itself present but she pushes it away because there’s nothing to be relieved about when you are about to destroy the lives of twenty-five innocent people.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Bellamy spent the majority of the day restlessly flipping through tv channels trying to be patient and wait for Clarke to come to them with new information. He wanted to give her space. When he hears a soft knock on the hotel room door he knows it can only be one person. He jumps up from the bed and rushes to the door. He opens it and disappointment weighs him down. 

“Sorry that I’m not the pretty blonde you were expecting,” Mat says with a laugh.

“What?” Bellamy knows exactly what he means but he’d rather play dumb then let a stranger read him like an open book.

“Nothing, can I come in?” 

“Uh, yeah sure.” He opens the door a few inches wider and steps to the side so Mat can make his way inside. He’s itching to ask where Clarke is, but after the interaction he had with Madi the other day he doesn’t want to come off too eager. Thankfully his sister speaks up.

“Where’s Clarke?” Octavia asks.

“She had some work to finish up, but we got some information so she sent me.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Who are you?” Octavia questions. 

Bellamy is thankful she’s able to think straight because right now he can’t help but wonder if Clarke really has work to do or if she’s avoiding him. He hopes it’s the former. He doesn’t want to be the reason she’s avoiding them. 

“I’m Mat, I’m a friend, someone she trusts, you can trust me too,” he says reassuringly.

“You were the one with her daughter the other day?” It comes out like a question more than a statement even though Bellamy recognizes him. Bellamy has learned to never forget a face.

“I was. I look after Madi from time to time.”

That statement catches him off guard. He never really thought about what this man’s relationship was to Madi and by extension Clarke. He tries to picture Madi and when he does he notices subtle similarities between her and Mat. They’ve both got brown hair, but Mat’s is too short to tell if it’s curly like Madi’s. He remembers their encounter at the cafe and how Madi asked if he and Clarke were dating, he doubts she would do that if Clarke wasn’t single. Maybe they co-parent Madi together. His mind is spiraling with possibilities and it’s enough to bring on a migraine. He knows why he cares so much, he just refuses to acknowledge it. For now he is operating under the idea that any information he gathers about Clarke has nothing to do with how he feels about her and everything to do with trying to work out if he can trust her. He already knows he can.

“Okay well if Clarke trusts you I guess I do too.” Octavia sounded apprehensive but she didn’t look as skeptical as she did when he first walked in the room so he relaxes a little. “What have you got for us?”

“We found your friend Miller, Nathan Miller.”

Bellamy straightens up, his muscles are locked with tension. “Where is he? If you found him why isn’t he here?”

“It’s dangerous. If he just up and left people would ask questions and that wouldn’t be good, for anyone. I can pass along a message, set up a meeting if you want, I would just need a couple of days to work out the logistics.”

That causes a couple of dozen alarm bells to start going off. 

“What about Lincoln?” Octavia jumps in. 

“We’re still working on that, we’re close but we want to be absolutely sure before we tell you anything, like I said it’s dangerous. We’ll track him down though don’t worry, you have my word.”

Octavia nods. He wants to believe Mat but everything about this feels off. First Clarke sends him instead of coming herself. Then, they’ve apparently found Miller but it’s too dangerous for him to leave. Bellamy is trying his best to keep his emotions under control, he doesn’t want to upset Clarke more by yelling at whoever this guy is to her.

“Okay, well I’d like to set up a meeting with Miller,” he says crossing his arms across his chest.

“I can do that, just give me a couple of days to sort everything out and find a safe place to meet.”

“Okay, I assume Clarke will let us know where to meet?”

“Yeah, or I will if she’s busy, speaking of I should get back.” He stands there awkwardly for a brief moment. 

Bellamy doesn’t like that answer. He didn’t want to believe that Clarke was avoiding him but Mat’s response makes him think otherwise.

“ It was nice to meet you guys.” Without waiting for one of them to escort him out Mat leaves them to soak in the information, closing the door behind him.

Bellamy’s skin is buzzing with anticipation much like it was the day before. “I’m going to ask him to give Miller a message, I’ll be right back,” he says rushing out of the room.

“Hey! Wait up!” he shouts.

Mat turns around to find Bellamy jogging towards him and he stops to let him catch up.

“Clarke mentioned something about some sort of recruitment last time she was here, do you know anything about that?” 

“Your friend won’t be there if that’s what you’re asking.” His brows are furrowed.

“No, um, I’m asking for me,” he says running his hands through his hair. A nervous habit.

It takes a moment before he sees the recognition on Mat’s face.

“No way, Clarke would kill me,” he says defiantly.

He didn’t think getting the information from him would be this hard. He figured the hardest part of all of this would be telling Octavia.

“All you have to do is tell me where to be at what time, how were you supposed to know what I’d do with that information?” It’s apparently going to be a lot harder to convince him than he originally thought. It’s oddly comforting and concerning how loyal he is to Clarke. 

“Clarke isn’t that stupid and she knows I’m not either.”

“Come on man, I have to do something, I’m thankful that Clarke is helping us, I really am, but I’m going crazy just sitting and waiting,” he pleads.

“And you think going to the recruitment is the answer? Do you know what they do to recruits?”

“I have an idea, yeah.” He doesn’t really but he hopes that if he says he does that it might work in his favor.

“So you know that they’ll turn you into a zombie and you’ll be like that forever?”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything, in hindsight, he guessed that’s one of the possibilities of what would happen but hearing it out loud causes a lump to form in his throat. He swallows it down preparing to speak but Mat continues.

“Speaking from experience it’s something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy and given the  _ choice,  _ because you have a choice here unlike I did, I would choose anything over this.” His tone is pleading, but his face is expressionless. He is masking his emotions, quite well. His body language tells a different story. His hands are in his pockets and he’s shifting from side to side. He seems almost agitated from what Bellamy can tell.

He didn’t see that coming. It starts to shift his view on zombies altogether. Up until now he always thought they were mindless self-serving monsters. Clearly he was wrong. He feels like maybe he should apologize, even though Mat doesn’t know of Bellamy’s previous transgressions he feels compelled to apologize for jumping to conclusions, for killing his kind without a second thought just to get what he wants. However as much as he wants to, an apology isn’t what stumbles out of his mouth.

“You’re- you’re a-”

“A zombie? Yeah, I am, so trust me when I say you don’t want this.” He says it almost like he’s ashamed.

“I have to do something and if that means becoming a zombie so I can put my family back together and protect them then so be it. Do you have a family?” Bellamy hopes he can appeal to his emotional side if zombies even have that. 

Mat simply nods.

“Wouldn’t you do anything in your power to protect them, even if that meant risking your own life?” He wonders if that family includes Madi and Clarke.

When Bellamy sees Mat sigh deeply he knows he’s won, if you could even win in a situation like this.

“Fine, Clarke will probably kill me when she finds out, but I’ll tell you.” he gives a disapproving shake of his head. “The round-up is happening tomorrow night, show up at the corner of Jefferson and Carlisle around 9.”

“Thank you,” he says graciously.

“Don’t thank me for this,” Mat replies solemnly. “It won’t be easy and unfortunately there isn’t anything I can say or do to help you prepare. Just be careful,” he warns.

Another lump forms in Bellamy’s throat. He knows Mat’s warning is serious and he desperately wants to ask for more information but he doubts he’ll get anything. He’s positive Clarke asked Mat to give him as little info as possible about anything, based on how reluctant he was to give up information about where the recruitment was taking place. He’s tired of feeling out of the loop and he’s tired of relying on someone else. Bellamy has never been the type to need anyone so it’s a foreign predicament he’s in to be needing Clarke.

“I will,” he says before he nods at Mat and turns to head back to his hotel room.

He’s about as sure of himself as he is of anything these days, which isn’t saying much. All that’s left to do is figure out how to tell Octavia. He knows it won’t be easy but his best chance is telling her tomorrow before he leaves. It’ll give him more time to think about what he’s going to say and less time for her to convince him that he’s making a mistake.

So many of his thoughts are fighting to get to the forefront of his mind and it makes him a little nauseous. He thinks about Octavia and how he’ll have to abandon her. He’s never left her before and he never thought he would, to be honest, at least not willingly. That’s the part that’s eating away at him. He’s choosing to leave her.

Then there’s Clarke. She’s taken up residence in the back of his mind recently and he doesn’t know why. He’d like to say that it’s because he’s protective of his family and it’s only right he spends the majority of his time trying to figure her out if only to be prepared for when she turns her back on them, but that’s not entirely true. He thinks about her eyes and how they held so much pain in them during their fight. He thinks about how relaxed she looked at the park with her daughter and how he’d like to see that side of her more often, but he doesn’t think he deserves to.

He keeps replaying his conversation with Madi. For someone in danger, she seemed quite cheerful and carefree. Maybe she didn’t know she was in danger. He remembers that she asked if he and Clarke were together. He thinks about that question more often then he’d like to admit. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to date Clarke Griffin, in fact, he thinks he would be quite happy. But then his worst moments play themselves out in his mind and any hope of Clarke Griffin wanting to be with him flies out the window. There’s no way she could ever want to be with a monster like him. 

He makes his way back into the hotel room. Octavia immediately notices the shift in his demeanor.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m just thinking about Miller and Lincoln that’s all.” It’s a lie. He wasn’t thinking about them but he is now. 

“Me too,” she responds.

It must be hard for her, harder than he could ever imagine. To be so close to her husband and yet not close enough. That thought only solidifies his reasons for going to the recruitment tomorrow, he has to do this for Octavia. She’s his sister, his responsibility.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!!! I'll update the tags as I post to avoid spoiling anything! Don't forget to comment and kudo 💖 I love you all!


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